Semuc Champey and the Arco Iris

I´m sorry for not posting in awhile... I´ve been gone all weekend, and didn´t have enough time last week... today and tomorrow I´ll try to get you all current. The adventure continues...

Sunday June 4th, 2006
Verapaz Highlands, Guatemala

Departing at 7am with 3 friends from my hostel we easily pick up a bus to Lanquin. It´s a mere 60 kilometers there, but it´s an amazing ascent through sheer mountains which put the "alto" in Alto Verapaz- the region of Guatemala which we penetrate deeply. As usual, the bus driver´s promised 1 hour direct ride is actually a 2.5 hour ride with dozens of stops. This is standard procedure in Guatemala.

When we get to Lanquin I split off from the trio, to head directly to Semuc Champey. A sign tells me it´s 11 kilometers and while I wait for 30 minutes for the bus I look around and ponder whether or not I should take the hike by foot instead. Lanquin is beautiful- a picturesque two street village set deep in Guatemala coffee country. The lush green coffee trees and maiz plants stretch up the steep hillsides that ascend from the valley as far as the eye can see. It´s a little hot but I decide that 11km might be a fun journey by foot, and certainly the exercise doesn´t hurt.

As my good friend Nick Baker once famously said in Canada, you can´t get ANYWHERE in kilometers. Nick I thought of those words as I walked for miles up steep dusty switchbacks along the road that the microbuses take to get from Lanquin to Semuc Champey. A math miscalculation hurt my odds of making it there on foot. When I first looked at the sign I thought 1 mile was 2.2km and that I had about 4 miles by foot. 1 hour of mountains, which I thought would be lovely. What I had forgotten is that 1 lbs is 2.2 kilograms, and that 1 mile is 1.6km, thus making the distance more like 7 miles, which then becomes about 2 hours of sweat and fatigue up deep into the mountain. After a half an hour I thought I was halfway there, yet I was drenched in sweat, low on water, and seriously wondering what the hell I was doing there. I only continued because I thought I was 30 minutes away.

I was saved by the microbus, which came afterall. I heard it rumbling before I saw it and signaled the driver. As it approached I saw heads, arms, and legs poking out from all of its windows and doors- it was jam packed! The driver shouts out the window "ARRIBA," which is spanish for above, and is typically said to me when I have my big backpack with me, with all my luggage in it. I was confused because I had only a small daypack, when the true meaning became clear to me- if I wanted a ride I was going to be taking it ON TOP of the bus. No arguement from me, I climb the ladder up the back and grab onto the rusted roofrack. Out of pity I think the cashman from the bus got out and rode with me. We made small talk about the boston red sox, while I tried to avoid being guillotined by the razor sharp tin sheet metal which they use for roofing here, that was also stored up top. Up, down, and around we went for 8km or so... the whole time I couldn´t help but think that this is living, and this is the adventure that I sought out and thought about on the plane to Roatan as I left Atlanta (well, maybe I hadn´t quite imagined this).

I got to Semuc and had about another 2 mile hike through jungle to get to the falls. I was drenched with sweat when I got there and didn´t need any prodding at all to strip down and jump into the pools. The cool water and the falls were gorgeous, and just what I needed. They were a bit silty from morning rain but still gorgeous. The pools are surrounded on either side by sheer cliffs which are covered in jungle and ascend probably 700 feet. The river itself is enormous and rushes with great fury, but the limestone formations slow its speed to a crawl as it eddys around, and make for perfect swiming. Here´s a look at the pools from down below:

Cooler now, I decided to make the 1.5 mile hike to "El Mirador" literally the view, at the top of the cliffside. In retrospect, this is one of the stupidest things I´ve done in Central America. I was wearing flip flops, with little tread, and the morning rain had made the rocks on which I was climbing very very slick. I was alone, and realized within 10 minutes that this was not going to be an easy hike, and that just one fall could crush my skull and leave me helpless along a trail on which I may have to wait a couple days to be found. No matter though, at that point I was 10 hours by car from the nearest major hospital, and there isn´t exactly a helicopter on standby for trauma in this country. I ascended VERY CARFULLY.

The view at the top was unreal, and rewarded my patience and vigor. I refused to turn back and I was so glad that I didn´t. At the top, the splended view mixed with the solitude of the place- high above the sounds of the water I heard almost nothing and was left to my thoughts and the sight of one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in the world. I thought to myself how lucky and privilidged I am to be in such a place- to be able to be there, and to have the drive and the willpower to be there. I thought about my parents and family, who gave me both the financial means to get to that place on earth, and the mental fortitude to do it. I thought about all of the people in the world who will live a long life and never see a place so beautiful. It was splendid.

Here´s a few more photos, they really do not do the place justice:

This last photo is from El Mirador, not from a helicopter or artificial platform. It really almost looks straight down on the pools and I think you can get an appreciation for how steep the hike is up the cliffside.

Exhausted, and out of water, I descend even twice as carefully as I ascended, because descents tend to be even more dangerous. I make it down without issue, having seen some gorgeous butterflies along the way. I catch a ride at the parking lot back to Lanquin no problem. In lanquin I see about 40 people waiting for whatever vehicle might be headed toward Coban and I decide that instead of waiting for a bus with these people I´m going to be a little more resourceful. The first truck passing by I wave at, shouting "Coban, Coban" and sure enough they stop and let me in the back of the pickup. This, as it turns out, would end up being my favorite ride in Central America to date- no packed bus, no strangers, just myself and the open sky as we ascend back out of the valley and cross acre after acre of coffee plantation and the gorgeous, rugged hillsides of the Verapaz. Under an ominous sky I´m left to my thoughts, the purring of the truck engine, and the sound of thunder in the distance. It´s 4pm, the wind is keeping me cool, and I´m happy.

The first 10km out of Lanquin are a bit rough on my rump, as the road is only gravel. We´re on the main road for 10 minutes before that thunder turns to rain, but well prepared I break out my pancho, cozy my back up to the cab of the truck and avoid getting wet. We´re through it in 10 minutes and I´m rewarded from a mountaintop with a most splendid view of the valley below, with a rainbow that must be 5-10 miles wide spread all the way across the valley in a gorgeous arc of colors I´ve never even seen before. Rich violet, aqua green, bright red and every color inbetween. I look up rainbow in my dictionary- "ARCO IRIS." After that it´s smooth sailing and as an added bonus I enjoy the company of the two men who own the truck, who take turns driving in front and smoking in the back. They each share half their sandwiches with me in exchange for basic lessons in English and Geography of the United States. I get back to Coban and I crash. This detour has made me a day late for Spanish School but I couldn´t care less. It´s one of the most glorious days of my life.